Draco plus Hermione is equal to Me
by flower letter
Summary: Hello. I’m Eric Granger, four year old. I’m investigating something. There is this guy who has just returned from France, Draco Malfoy. Since he is back, my Mum acts funnily and the guy becomes curious. I am too, because we look so much alike!


**_Disclaimer_**: Nah I don't own Harry Potter.

**_Author's Note_**: Howdy guys. I just want to tell you that we're only having Eric's POV as first POV; others' go naturally. Formerly I've been thinking about something else _entirely_, but now it's decided this story goes first. And I have friends... who write in here... but this is my 'debut' and I haven't told them yet I've _finally_ registered so... I hope you like this.

**Draco plus Hermione is equal to Me**

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**Chapter 1-**

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"_Sometimes, even the most inconvenient mistake could turn to blessing."_

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"_Eric_."

I opened my eyes. I felt Vicki's breath near my cheek as she pressed herself against my arm, and when I turned my head toward her I saw her big blue eyes squinting at me in the dim room, peering at me to see if I was awake.

"Hey Eric?" she whispered uncertainly. I thought she ought to have noticed my open eyes since we were half an inch to each other, and everybody would've noticed her open, _big_ eyes.

"What?" I said.

Slowly Vicki distanced a bit from me and let out this big, dramatic sigh.

"I'm not sure whether I should tell you about this." she said with the air Pansy would use every time she decided to make news more dramatic. Like mother like daughter, after all.

"It's two a.m." I pointed out.

"You're not sleeping still." Vicki frowned defensively.

"I heard your sighs in my ear after every two second." I left no room for her at that.

Vicki's frown evaporated and she shifted to sit on the bed we shared—which was mine, really—and plucked the table lamp on.

"I… _accidentally_ heard Mum and Dad talking yesterday night." she began, looking at me with a fresh frown. Dead serious. If the lamp light had shone under her chin it would have felt like she were the storyteller of a depressingly dark bedtime story.

"_Accidentally_ heard… you meant 'eavesdropped'." I uncovered.

Vicki's frown deepened but the serious look on her face had turned to annoyance.

"Mum sometimes says you're very similar to Draco! Well you are!" she agreed.

Whoever he was I didn't know him. Neither did Vicki.

"Draco's dead." I carelessly muttered.

"I will tell Hermione that," Vicki promised. "You're just _so_ ignorant." she heaved out another dramatic sigh and shook her head, bouncing slightly on my bed to imitate a frustrated mother over her rebellious child's behavior. "Anyway," she tossed her long dark hair. "I heard Mum and Dad talking about _your_ Dad." she said.

I froze. I wasn't sure how I looked but Vicki stopped making gestures as if she were on the red carpet and watched me carefully.

I never knew my Dad. There was Ron, of course; the _kind_, _constantly_ accompanying… _entity_ that came _frequently_ to our house. He was redhead though. I was _blond_. I sort-of mixed with him just for the sake of my Mum. Once after I announced Ron was nothing but a bumblebee, for two days Mum kept that long look on her face she said I would have when I was brooding.

As for my supposedly blond Dad, Mum only mentioned about him twice. Ever. One time was when I first understood what the word meant and asked her where 'my Dad' was. She had seemed surprised and after three seconds she looked about to cry. She only said "He's—" and then she burst into tears. The second time—yeah I know; the first time didn't really count anyway—was after I punched a bumblebee—don't worry it wasn't Ron…for now—who mentioned about me not having a Dad. Well actually I punched him _because_ he talked something low about Mum. At that time after I saw Mum cry before she even _talked_ about 'my blond Dad', I decided not to care less what 'my blond Dad' was doing—rolling in the grave I had hoped—since he was never here anyway. Then after the punching scene Ron had tried to have a 'man to man' talk with me. Since I wasn't his height to punch him I almost kicked his between, but Mum saved that by saying she needed to settle me by herself. That was when she mentioned about how she and Dad made 'this mistake'. She said that 'this mistake' however gave me to her, and instantly when she saw me for the first time she decided nothing was a mistake. Dad, though, had no idea me ever came in from 'this mistake'. Mum explained everything to me very carefully like she were talking to a five year old—which approximately was my age—about how most of the things weren't Dad's fault. I understood.

At least I'd rather say I understood.

Mum said she had been afraid if Dad would turn us down and so she had let him leave without telling him anything. Two years ago she heard he was engaged to another woman so she had decided to just 'let it be'. She said the only thing she regretted from her decision was she had been guilty to me. I said I didn't care.

At least I'd rather tell her I didn't care.

"Eric?" Vicki's voice startled me, but since I had always been good at keeping my face bored or cynical or blank, as always she didn't notice. She frowned. "What do you think?"

"Nothing." I lied. I flicked off the table lamp and turned to lie on my side, facing away from Vicki. "It's two twenty a.m."

Vicki sighed.

"_Boys_…" she lamented. "But are you still coming? We're going to pick up Dad's friend at the airport today. I thought Mum said his name was Draco. I think you two should meet, seeing how everyone's been mentioning how similar you two are. Maybe you'd finally see your kind."

"Whatever." I muttered. "We can't be that similar." And maybe he was just another worthless bumblebee.

After a few silent seconds I heard Vicki move. She threw herself on the bed and I felt her press against my back, cuddling as close as she could to me.

"You're squeezing me." I reported.

"Whatever." Vicki muttered. "You can't be that squeeze-able."

In annoyance I shut my eyes tight with a frown. I was never going to be softhearted and let her play sleepover here again—precisely in my room; changing my favorite green bedding to _pink_—but then again I was only ever _stubborn_. Mum was the one who had let Vicki stay. Mum described me, briefly, as 'cute but _insufferable'_. I doubted she had tried to make it less harsh.

I relaxed as I listened to Vicki's calm breathing, feeling her cold feet pressing against mine and tried to sleep.

* * *

Hermione was considering biting her nails clean, drumming her fingers on the tabletop or to simply _scream_. She took a deep, _deep_ breath and reached across the table to ruffle at Eric's blond hair.

"_Mother_." spontaneously he toned a complaint.

Hermione smiled nervously.

"Yes Honey," quickly she averted her gaze from Eric's keen quicksilver eyes and grabbed the glass, downing the watermelon juice in it absently.

"Hermione, that's mine." Vicki said.

More than halfway to finishing the juice, Hermione removed the glass from her mouth. She threw them another nervous smile and placed the glass neatly near Vicki's plate.

"Whoops." she gave a shaky, girlish giggle.

The fork of falafel in his hand, Eric stared at her blankly.

Sending Eric straight to his _Dad_ with neither Eric nor his _Dad_ knowing they were coming straight to each other was rather, say, '_unclean'_, but Hermione had kept everything a secret for too long—she thought so—being afraid for too long—not to mention silly—so the least she could do now was, say, _surprise_ them.

_Oh Eric is so going to stab me with that fork and Malfoy… well, let's not even go there._

Just fleeting over those thoughts Hermione reconsidered biting her nails clean, drumming her fingers on the tabletop, masking her face with the omelet on her plate…

"That must be Mum and Dad!" Vicki jumped from her seat the moment they heard the sound of someone flooing into the fireplace. She scurried to the living room, screeching at the top of her lungs as though she hadn't only met Blaise and Pansy yesterday when they dropped her in.

"Hey young man," Blaise greeted as he walked in, raising an eyebrow at Eric. "Ready for the day?" he hinted.

"Oh dear." Hermione picked Vicki's glass again and gulped down randomly.

While Blaise chuckled, Eric rolled his eyes at the overrated scene of mother-and-daughter-hugging-session that was taking place between Pansy and Vicki; the drama _almost_ surpassed even the dramatic surprised look Ginny would fake every time Hermione told her she wasn't interested to date again for the time being—to which Ginny would reply pressingly, "That's what _you_ think."

"So the screaming was just the prologue? The moment they start talking mushy about how they miss each other terrifically I'm going to play darting at them with this fork." Eric warned, staring darkly at the I-kiss-your-cheek-and-you-kiss-my-cheek Pansy and Vicki.

"Spare me my daughter and wife, please." Blaise said amusedly. "But I've heard your tone before." he informed with another chuckle. "And it wasn't from you."

* * *

There were numerous of reasons that contributed to why Draco chose Muggle transportation instead of anything involving magic to return, but '_the_ reason' that made Draco _choose_, was because there were many potential lasses in that white large box they called 'airplane', in which said lasses wore uniform which consisted of fitting button-up shirt and short skirt and smiling pleasantly the entire time—_stewardess_. Throughout the flight Draco had managed to—unsurprisingly with his irresistible looks and charms—acquire some very potential lasses' phone number; yes, being the quick learner that he was, 'mobile phone' was one of those Muggle knickknacks Draco had learned about.

"Home sweet home," Draco smirked complacently, casting a confident survey around the building they called 'airport'.

Among the sea of people ahead, shortly Draco spotted two familiar figures—although he hadn't seen them in years—heading his way, one of them waving high-spiritedly and almost bouncing on her stilettos.

"_Draco_!"

All too suddenly Draco found himself being suffocated by a pair of strangling arms that snaked around his neck.

Pansy kissed him on the cheek.

"Welcome home!" she cheered, as jubilant as she had ever been.

"Glad to see you solidly Malfoy," Blaise smiled as he trailed behind. "Quite worried if you'd think the engine its entryway." he chuckled.

"Not a single hair missing." Draco gloated.

Once Pansy finished her hugging session—gratefully not depriving the oxygen from Draco's respiratory system for _too_ long—Draco noted curiously that there were two more greeters.

Probably of the same age, one that made the little pair was a black-haired girl whose style in clothing reminded Draco of _Pansy_, and a blond boy who shocked him as much as he shocked the boy in return—since there was a surprised look on the boy's face and Draco had little doubt about him looking the same.

It was as if he were staring at his five year old self.

Pansy stooped over behind the children and wrapped her arms around them.

"This is Vicki." she began with a proud air, gesturing at the little girl. "Victoria 'Vicki' Zabini… _Ours_." she declared.

Although still surprised, Draco managed to regain composure and plastered a wondering look on his face, tearing his gaze away from the boy. He nodded with friendly mockery.

Without a word Vicki stepped up to Draco and hugged him around the waist, standing on her toes as far as her short figure would allow and smiling radiantly when she looked up at him.

"Hello!" she chirped.

"Hello." Draco rejoined, trying his best to give the little girl a warm smile instead of a flirtatious smirk—judging by her shimmering, dreamy blue eyes, he wasn't sure if he succeeded.

Vicki turned to the blond boy who was still standing unmoving from where he was.

"Come on, Eric!" she encouraged. "Let's give Draco a group hug!"

Before any of them could intervene, they found the blond boy walking over to Draco and—to Draco's relief—instead of group hugging he decided to hold out his hand to him.

"I'm Eric Granger, nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

While Vicki returned to her mother, releasing the firm hold she had made around Draco slightly reluctantly, Pansy straightened and Blaise watched with raised eyebrows.

By then standing statically where he was, as if not noticing Eric's outstretched hand, Draco looked into the small boy's quicksilver eyes, observed his pale face, noticed the blond platinum strands of hair that fell strategically across the boy's forehead, and last but not in the least _least_, mulled over the boy's _surname_, only two words crossed his agile mind—

_Holy Crabbe._

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**_Author's Note_**: Pardon the OOCnesses (yes I do notice them). They're not accidental. They're inevitable...


End file.
